The shooter survived the gunshot wound to the face and will be charged with second-degree murder, police say

Emily Finn.Credit : Emily Finn/Instagram

NEED TO KNOW

A 17-year-old allegedly shot and killed his ex-girlfriend before shooting himself in the face
Emily Finn, a resident of West Sayville, N.Y., was shot and killed at the scene
The minor will be charged with second-degree murder, police said

A 17-year-old allegedly shot and killed his ex-girlfriend before turning the gun and shooting himself in the face in Long Island, police said.

The 17-year-old male, who remains unidentified on account of his age, shot 18-year-old Emily Finn in his home in Nesconset, N.Y., on Wednesday, Nov. 26. He then allegedly shot himself in the face, and his parents immediately called 911, according to a statement from Suffolk County Police obtained by PEOPLE.

Finn died at the scene at approximately 11:10 a.m. local time. She was a resident of West Sayville, N.Y. The SCPD added that the 17-year-old “was transported to Stony Brook University Hospital in critical but stable condition. He will be charged with Murder 2nd Degree and arraigned at a later date.”Finn graduated from Sayville High School in June, according to Greater Long Island.  Suffolk County Det. Lt. Kevin Beyrer, commanding officer of the department’s homicide bureau, told the outlet that Finn had gone to the shooter’s home to return his belongings after a breakup.An investigation into the shooting remains ongoing. PEOPLE has reached out to the SCPD for further information.

Echoes of Pink Ribbons: Community Mourns Emily Finn in Heart-Wrenching Vigil

Sayville, NY – December 2, 2025 – Under a slate-gray Long Island sky, the streets of Sayville transformed into a sea of pink on Monday, as family, friends, and neighbors gathered to mourn the life cut short of Emily Finn, an 18-year-old ballerina whose radiant spirit had once lit up stages and classrooms alike. The aspiring dancer, gunned down in what police describe as a senseless botched murder-suicide at the hands of her ex-boyfriend, was laid to rest in a funeral service that blended profound grief with defiant celebration of her legacy. Mourners donned pink—her favorite color—tying ribbons around ancient oaks and lampposts, a vivid tapestry of loss and love that stretched from the Raynor & D’Andrea Funeral Home to the heart of this tight-knit community.

Emily Finn’s story, which unfolded like a tragic ballet on the eve of Thanksgiving, has gripped Long Island and beyond. Home from SUNY Old Westbury for the holiday break, the Sayville High School graduate drove to the Nesconset home of her recent ex-boyfriend, Austin Lynch, on November 26 to exchange belongings and part ways amicably. What should have been a moment of closure escalated into horror when Lynch, then 17, allegedly retrieved a shotgun and fired, striking Finn fatally in the torso and head. In the chaotic aftermath, he turned the weapon on himself, surviving with critical injuries that landed him at Stony Brook University Hospital. Now 18, Lynch faces second-degree murder charges and is expected to be arraigned as an adult once medically cleared, according to Suffolk County Police.

The funeral, attended by hundreds, was a poignant mosaic of memories. Emily’s parents, Cliantha and her husband, stood stoic yet shattered beside her brother and grandparents, their faces etched with the raw ache of unimaginable loss. “A great young lady,” her cousin Francis Finn choked out to reporters, his voice breaking. “The whole world ahead of her… she’s very loved and she’ll be very missed.” Friends, many in matching pink bandanas and boots—echoing Emily’s flair for fashion—shared tearful anecdotes of her infectious laugh and unwavering kindness. “I can’t believe this happened to her,” said one classmate, Maia Toth, clutching a bouquet of pink roses. “She didn’t deserve that. I’m going to miss her so much.” The service spilled into the streets, with attendees spilling over from the chapel, hugging amid sobs and releasing pink balloons skyward as a final farewell.

Emily wasn’t just a daughter or friend; she was a force. A lifelong dancer at the American Ballet Studio in Bayport, she had pirouetted her way into hearts, earning the lead role of Clara in last year’s The Nutcracker. Studio director Kathy Karen Scholes, her voice thick with emotion, remembered her star pupil as “filled with talent and compassion.” In a touching tribute, the studio announced it would dedicate its upcoming holiday performances to Emily, ensuring her grace lives on through every leap and twirl. “She danced with her whole soul,” Scholes said, “and we’ll carry that light forward.”

Beyond the stage, Emily’s ambitions painted a future brimming with purpose. Enrolled at SUNY Old Westbury to study education, she dreamed of returning to Long Island as a teacher, inspiring young minds with the same passion she poured into her art. The Youth Peace and Justice Foundation, moved by her story, pledged an annual scholarship in her name for aspiring educators—a beacon for those chasing dreams amid adversity. Meanwhile, the Youth Gun Violence Initiative plans to plant a tree in her honor at Finger Lakes National Forest, its roots a symbol of resilience against the violence that claimed her.

The vigil’s pink ribbons, fluttering like fragile flags of hope, weren’t mere decoration; they were a community’s cry against the shadows encroaching on young lives. Suffolk County Executive Ed Romaine addressed the crowd, his words heavy with the weight of rising statistics: Domestic violence calls surged 43% in October alone, a stark reminder of the unseen fractures in relationships. “Tremendous sadness,” Romaine said. “Domestic violence is something we worry about all the time, and the numbers are much too high.” In response, the county has bolstered a coalition with community organizations, emphasizing early intervention—spotting red flags like possessive texts or isolation tactics, and providing immediate counseling and crisis support. “We work very closely with our partners to ensure resolution,” he added, urging parents and peers to foster open dialogues about mental health and boundaries.

Emily and Austin’s romance, spanning three and a half years of high school highs—prom nights in glittering gowns, beachside sunsets captured on Instagram—had seemed the epitome of youthful bliss. Archival photos show them beaming, arms entwined, oblivious to the storm clouds gathering with her college departure. The breakup, mere weeks before the tragedy, was mutual, born of diverging paths: Emily’s newfound independence clashing with Austin’s enlistment in the U.S. Marines. No prior reports of abuse marred their history, yet a family friend’s anonymous account to the New York Post revealed the undercurrents of despair. “They were deeply in love,” the friend said, “but his response to her breakup worried me.” Cryptic texts exchanged that morning—pleas laced with finality—hinted at turmoil no one heeded in time.

As investigators sift through digital trails and the shotgun’s forensics, questions swirl about access to firearms in a home with teens. New York’s strict gun laws notwithstanding, the weapon was legally owned by a family member, sparking renewed calls for secure storage mandates and mental health screenings for young adults. National advocates, from the National Domestic Violence Hotline to Everytown for Gun Safety, point to alarming trends: One in 11 high school students experiences dating violence, often escalating without overt warnings. Emily’s case, devoid of classic red flags, amplifies the urgency—love’s end can mimic grief’s abyss, especially when amplified by social media’s relentless echo and easy lethality.

The GoFundMe for the Finn family has swelled past $80,000, funding not just funeral costs but scholarships and therapy for those reeling. Sayville High School’s alumni association labeled her death “a senseless and unimaginable tragedy,” while the Girl Scouts of Suffolk County—where Emily once earned badges for leadership—vowed to honor her “strong character and commitment to service.” Even strangers, moved by viral posts of her prom glow or Nutcracker elegance, have flooded comment sections with condolences: “She sounds like the kind of light we all need more of,” one read.

Yet amid the tributes, anger simmers. On X (formerly Twitter), hashtags like #JusticeForEmily and #EndTeenDV trend, with users decrying systemic failures: “Another young girl lost to a boy who couldn’t handle ‘no.’ When do we fix this?” Protests are brewing, with women’s rights groups planning forums on consent and emotional literacy in schools. Emily’s final words to her mother—”If anything happens to me, know that I love you”—now echo as a haunting prophecy, a daughter’s intuition amid budding freedom.

As dusk fell on the vigil, pink lanterns flickered along Main Street, casting a soft glow on faces streaked with tears and resolve. Emily Finn’s life, though brutally abbreviated, refuses to fade into statistics. Her story demands we listen—to the whispers in texts, the silences in breakups, the pleas masked as pleas for one more chance. In Sayville’s ribboned embrace, a movement stirs: not just mourning, but mending. For Emily, who dreamed in pirouettes and pink, may her legacy teach us to dance through the darkness, one vigilant step at a time.